Grief
by Obsidian Blade
Summary: After making the biggest mistake in her life, Bulma faces a daunting task: Making it up to Vegeta... Bulma's POV - One shot


**Grief**

He's standing outside on the balcony, soaked through with the rain that pours from the heavens. So wet that he could be crying and I'd never know. Looking at him as he stands there, hands clenched tight on the rail as who knows how many emotions run through him, I know that what I did was wrong. So very, very wrong. I knew that from the start. So why did I do it? To tell the truth, I don't know. How could I have done this? I know the pain it brings! So why did I do it to him?  
  
Vegeta, haven't you been through enough? Why did I add to it? I remember when you first came here, the arrogant, pompous ass who'd rather die that help someone else. I remember how I looked into your eyes once and saw all the pain, hurt and anger there. I remember working so hard to get rid of that pain and how it worked as you placed your trust in me and built a life, a warm, welcoming life, around it. And now I've torn that trust. 

I watch my husband, my mate, the one I really love, standing out there shivering in the rain. It must be cold, very cold. If it wasn't he wouldn't be trembling like that. 

"Vegeta?" 

I slide open the door as quietly as I can and join him in the rain. It is cold. 

"What do you want, onna?" He spits. 

Just the words are enough to make my heart seem to break. 

_'You haven't called me onna since before Buu came...'_

He's looking at me now, obsidian eyes filled with pain even greater than before. Some of that water isn't rain. 

"Oh Kami..." I gasp, "What have I done?" 

It wasn't meant to happen. I didn't go out there planning to cheat on the father of my children. But there was this man, and it was so soon after the stadium was blown up... 

_'Before you told me everything...'_

He doesn't respond to my little gasp, even though I know full well that his ears picked out every word. 

"Vegeta..." I try again, but he's turned his back. 

I have to do this, he has to know. He won't take me back now, I'm sure of that, but I have to say. I take a deep breath and pour my heart to him. He choses not to interrupt. 

"I didn't set out there on a mission to hurt you." My sentance is greeted by uncomfortable silence so I plow on, the fear of losing my one and only twisting my stomach like a freezing frost. 

"I was just so confused after you destroyed the stadium at the Budokai tournament. I didn't know what to think and I was afraid to run to you because you scared me that day. I had no one else to talk to, to make things make sense, so I... made myself someone..." 

I see the corded muscles in his powerfull chest and back clench as I say this, the magnificent tail of his drooping slightly further towards the ground. How I love that tail. 

I remember the beginning of our relationship, when it had just grown back and you used to use it to comfort me when things went wrong. I remember how whenever I was hurt, emotionally or physically, you'd force yourself to drop your sheilds and come to me, take me in your lap and hold me and sooth me until my tears dried. Everything felt so much better when you did that, even though it was a rare treat. But what can I do now? I've ruined everything. You'll never do something as kind as that to me again, I just know it, and you're too strong and proud to let me comfort you. I can't believe I let myself do this. I can't believe how much I've hurt you...  
  
Tears flow unchecked down my cheeks but no gentle hand reaches up to brush them away. 

"It wasn't even meant to be a one night thing," I continue, tears pouring from my eyes, "But it ended up happening anyway. And then he wanted more... And still I felt confused and afraid around you. It was so scary not to understand you, since you have been the only person I could pour my heart to for so long... It made me uncomfortable to even be around you so I... I went back to him." 

I look up and see that his tears are running even more freely than mine. 

"I never meant to hurt you. I just never thought. I was being so selfish that I never even bothered to think it through. Vegeta! I never meant to do anything to you, I love you too much for that!" 

He stares at me with his burning onyx gaze, tears rolling down his cheeks. The normal fire in his eyes is gone, the arrognat way he used to stand has disapeared. I've never seen him look so dismal and defeated, not even after he came back from being defeated by Cell and the androids. 

"What did it start?" He wants to know. 

I nearly blurt out my normal 'What?' at that but stop myself. Surely he knows, what with those keen senses of his he had to have caught the scent of another man on me. A thought hits me, Trunks might know. He's got a strong sense of smell too... The idea chills me to the bone. My own son, knowing that I cheated on his beloved father. I know how he looks up to Vegeta, tries so hard to prove himself to him. I just don't want to destroy everything... 

"A month after you can back from beating Buu." I say bitterly, hating every word that is coming from my mouth. If I hadn't given into temptation I never would have had to say them... 

"I've blinded myself for that long." He says softly. 

He hurts so much now. I know it. And how I wish I could change it. He fills my vision completely, broken and dripping, face controrted with sadness and pain as the ran beats down upon his broad shoulders. I'm so filled with compassion and love for him that I feel as if I'm glowing with it, but my heart feels like it's going to break and my stomach aches from the iron grip of guilt.  
  
How could I do this to you Vegeta? When I love you more than even I can say? How could I go and smash our perfect world like that? I wish I hadn't done it. I wish I could turn back time and ask what happened in that fight straight away. You can't leave me Vegeta, you can't leave us. Please don't go. Please forgive me. Little Bura, I know how much you love her, she's only four months old. You can't let her live without ever knowing her father because of her mother's foolishness. Please don't. Please don't hurt yourself more than I have already done. 

His gaze is calculating as he stares at me and I wonder if our bond still exists. If even a fragment survived he must sense these feelings I hold for him. They are so strong they must shine like a beacon. 

"Go inside onna, it's cold." He orders. 

I realise for the first time that I am shivering uncontrollably. I look up from my goose-bumped arms to his face. 

"Not if you stay out." I insist, "If you caught pneumonia and died I don't know what I'd do." 

He watches me a second more before turning to the door and sliding it open. Is it my imagine or has that look he gives me when he fights himself in his eyes? The look he has when he wants to comfort me but finds that he can't. The pain hasn't ebbed. 

"Dry yourself, onna." He hands me a towel from our bathroom which I accept and remove the worst of the wet from myself with. 

Then I place it on the rack, taking another and trying to dry him off too. He doesn't let me, pulling away although he shivers. We sit on the bed side by side but the gap between us is larger than it's ever been. I'm surprised that he's here at all. 

"I don't know what to do." He says softly after a while, "You've confused me deeply." A sigh and then he continues, lettting himself speak freely as I taught him to many years before. "I still love you." He forces out in a choked voice, surprising me with his choice of words. 

Normally he'd avoid saying the word 'love' like it were poison. 

"But what you did..." 

"I hurt you too bad. I know. I've been a crap wife. You never should have picked me as your mate. I've hurt you so much, I..." 

He silences my onslaught of self-punishment with a finger to my lips. 

"You hurt me, yes, a lot. Hurt me so much I thought you hated me and our bond started to divide. And I'm angry," He continues, voice completely calm, "More angry at you than I have been at anything else before. Freiza took my people, my mother and my father. He did not take such a large part of me. You did. And that's why I'm confused. The bond isn't broken. So you must sill care. But I can't do it..." 

I reach out and put a hand on his shoulder. He has either given up or is too tired to care because he doesn't pull away. 

"I know." I tell him, "I know because Yamcha did it to me. But hear you this; I love you now, I loved you then, I'll love you always. And I can never forgive myself for what I've done. I loved you so much but let my own selfishness take control. All I can hope is that things get better over time..." 

He's still staring at me and I can actually feel just the slightest twitch of his emotions through our taught and dying bond. I don't want it to die. Please don't let it. I know a split bond would kill me, but death is somehow the least of my worries. I'm just so afraid of losing him, losing him forever. I want him to say that things will get better over time but he never promises things that might not come true. Now is obviously not an exception. 

"Vegeta?" I murmur and the tears start up again, trails of salty mositure moving down my cheeks and splattering on the bedspread. 

The agony in his eyes increases tenfold as he sees me cry and for a minute his self-control breaks and he takes me in his strong arms and holds me gently and securely to his warm chest. His heavy heart beat thuds through my body as he holds me there and the bond sudenly seems to strengthen. For a blessed minute he holds me there, the warmth radiating from him drying my tears and starting to heal the hurt inside of me. But I'm not the one who's so badly wounded they're slowly bleeding to death from within. 

"I'm so sorry." I say and suddenly he pulls away, as if my sentance brought back reality. 

"It's not that easy." He tells me as he stands up and leaves the room. 

But suddenly I belieive that it will heal. For once I am so sure that it will that I cannot debate it. It will heal, with time and nurture I think we can grow back together and become one again. That embrace was proof. It was evidence of the real feeling inside of him, covered up and pinned down by the immense pain my actions have bestowed upon him.  
I get up and take the dry towel with me, sure that it is time to make a start. 

* * *

**A/N:** Just to make things clearer, I don't believe in this fic. My friend (yeah, with friends like these...), Siara the Black-Winged Angel, decided that I needed challenging and said that she'd give me the ideas and I could write them. 

Foolishly, I accepted. 

And this is where that got me. This was posted on her account originally, but I couldn't stick having the credit for my (hated) piece of work to go to someone else, so I ended up demanding that she take it down so I could post it here. Gah, complicated, I know. Oh, and Rissa of the Saiya-jin? Thanks for being the only one of the original eight reviewers to actually like this. I'm glad someone enjoyed it.


End file.
